LA's Hottest Baker
by Jensen Jones
Summary: Jo convinces Scott to enter a reality baking show 'LA's Hottest Baker' which is being produced by Quinn and Rachel. They are being paid a lot of money to deliver high ratings!
1. Holiday Job

"You know I was kind of looking forward to having some time out," Rachel told Quinn as she looked over all the less-than-thrilling applications for the next season of 'Hottest Baker'. "I was planning on relaxing, sleeping in. Maybe learning some yoga. I think I need it after everything that's happened. And yet here we are only three days after wrapping up 'Everlasting', contracted to produce this baking show. Why did I sign up for this, again?"

"You didn't," Quinn reminded her, tossing another dud application into the trash. "I signed us up. You didn't have a choice."

Rachel sighed. "Quinn, I really need…"

"You don't know _what_ you need, Rachel. I _do_. And it's not yoga, it's _work_." Quinn told her. "And even if it wasn't, there's no way I'd have turned this job down. The amount of money they're paying us to produce this thing? Are you kidding me? Best holiday job ever. So stop complaining."

"Holiday job? That's an oxymoron." Rachel pointed out, but then brightened. "I guess a change is as good as a holiday, that's what they say. And this is certainly going to be a change. You realise I know next to nothing about cooking. I'm not exactly a foodie." As if to prove it, Rachel reached her hand into her bag of crisps and stuffed her face with another mouthful of munchies.

Quinn frowned, slightly disgusted, but assured her,"You don't have to be, Rach. The show's not about cooking."

"Errr… Quinn, it's a _baking_ show. It's _all_ about cooking." Rachel's words were muffled as she spoke with her mouth full.

"Oh, come on, Rachel! Can the viewers taste the creamy icing through their TV screens? Of course not. Can they smell the aromas wafting from the ovens? No. The food, the baking, it's all just window dressing. This show is about the exact same thing 'Everlasting' is about. Drama. That's what audiences respond to above all else."

"Okay, I get that," Rachel admitted. "But the network wants us to 'maintain the show's prestige and focus on quality hospitality."

"That's why we hire acclaimed food critics as judges and showcase the latest kitchenware – well that's also for product placement deals," Quinn admitted. "Look Rachel, the reason we were offered this gig, is to bring in the ratings and save this show after the last dismal season almost ruined it. They want us to get people watching. They want us to save this sinking ship before it goes under. And how do we do that?"

"Drama," Rachel's eyes gleamed. "Choose the right mix of volatile contestants, pit them against each other and watch things heat up."

"Exactly," Quinn grinned.

"So we're not necessarily looking for the best chefs?"

"As long as they're qualified. It's more about choosing the right mix of personalities."

"How about this guy?" Rachel picked up an application. "He's a pastry chef who specialises in vegan baking. I'm assuming he's qualified. The details are sketchy. It says he turned to veganism because of allergies. He could be interesting. Also, he's English so maybe he has a cute accent."

"Or a terrible one," Quinn pointed out. But she was interested. "What's he look like?"

"He's definitely hot," Rachel smirked. "And also? Naked. Apart from the apron." She handed Quinn the application with photo attached.

"Okay!" Quinn nodded approvingly. "This is what I call a hot baker!" She paused. "Is there's something odd about this photo? Is he in the kitchen?"

"Maybe he likes to bake in the nude?" Rachel suggested.

"Or he's been caught doing something – else - in the kitchen," Quinn surmised. "This is a candid shot." Quinn looked over the application form. "I don't think this guy…" she searched for his name, "Scott. I don't think he filled in this application. Someone else filled it out and sent it in. Probably without his knowledge."

"How can you tell?"

"Little things," Quinn noted. "Some details are vague or inconsistent, like where he completed his training. And this looks more like a woman's handwriting, don't you think? Also the candid photo." Quinn shrugged. "Could be a prank. Or there could be some other deeper, darker motives behind it."

"Does it matter?" Rachel asked. She felt wanted to audition this guy, but if the application was not genuine it was not really ethical. Maybe Quinn would not allow it.

"Of course it matters! It could make a great story. Audition him." Quinn instructed, handing the application back to Rachel. "I'm got a meeting with the network heads. I'll be back later. Call when you've got me a shortlist." With that Quinn left the room.

Rachel looked at the photo again. She wondered who this guy 'Scott' was and who had sent in his application, complete with revealing photo. "Let's find out," she said to herself and couldn't keep a devious smile from spreading across her face as she sealed the audition letter. This job was definitely going to be more enjoyable than yoga.


	2. All for Jo

"Something interesting come in the mail?" Scott asked, hearing Jo exclaim as she opened the day's business letters. He had been busy baking in the small Rize kitchen since the early hours of the morning and was pleased to have Jo's company. He still looked forward to those times before opening when they were alone together. Even since she had so bluntly rejected him at that disastrous wedding. It was probably pathetic but he couldn't help it. He looked up from the batch of icing he was mixing as Jo held out the letter.

"It's for you," she told him, avoiding direct eye contact.

Scott brushed the icing sugar off his hands and took the letter scanning it quickly. "Our network's hit show 'Hottest Baker'," he read. "Invites you to audition for the new season beginning soon…" Scott frowned, leaving his work and walking to the doorway of Jo's tiny office. "Jo, what is this?"

"Hottest Baker? Isn't it that reality baking show all about pastry chefs strutting their stuff on that popular cooking channel?" Jo played innocent, pretending to be more engaged with tallying the previous day's receipts.

"Jo, I've heard of the show. It's a third rate bake-off show that's more interested in suspense and melodrama than any actual quality baking."

"They sure feature some hot bakers though," Jo commented, without looking up. "Not bad publicity-wise either."

"You think this would be good publicity for Rize?"

"Well…" Jo swivelled her chair to face him. "Yeah." She looked him up and down. "Why the hell not?"

"You're assuming I would do well on the show," Scott pointed out cautiously.

"Of course," Jo scoffed. "Come on Scott, you're _exactly_ what they're looking for on this type of show!"

"I'm not sure how complimentary that is, Jo," Scott frowned. "Given most reality shows seem to rely on wacky, nut-job contestants to create drama for the ratings."

Jo pursed her lips. "Hey, there's no such thing as bad publicity, right?"

"Are you sure about that? Do you think your friend Abby would agree?"

Jo laughed. "You're right. Abby would probably disagree. And yet look how well she's doing now! Despite the bad publicity she got last year - or maybe _because_ of it. Hmmm. I wonder."

Scott scanned the letter again. "See, I'm confused…do they send these audition letters out to just anyone?" Scott asked suspiciously. "That seems a lot of effort for the audition process. There's something a little suspicious going on here…"

"Okay, okay!" Jo admitted. "So I filled in an application on your behalf!"

Scott gave her a withering look of disapproval.

Jo tried to defend her actions. "Apparently they received over a thousand applicants and they're only auditioning a handful. You should be flattered! You're the cream of the crop!"

"The cream of the crop of a bunch of deluded wanna-be TV stars more concerned with securing themselves the questionable honour of B-grade celebrity status than having any serious ambitions in hospitality," Scott ranted. "Jo, I'm a _chef_ ," he tried to explain, "not a television personality!"

"Well," Jo crossed her arms. "Now it's possible for you to be both."

"But Jo," Scott was exasperated. "I don't want to be on TV!"

"Jesus, Scott," Jo rolled her eyes and got to her feet. "We're in LA now, okay?" she explained, leaning in as though she was imparting some revelatory wisdom. " _Everyone_ wants to be on TV. That's what it's _all about_!" Scott only crossed his arms more determinately so Jo took a different tactic of persuasion. "You know I didn't sign you up for this show just because it would be good for the bakery," she admitted, walking out into the kitchen surveying Scott's mouth-watering freshly baked produce. "Don't you realise how great this opportunity is for _you_ Scott?"

"How?" Scott argued. "I'd have to go and live in a house full of idiot chefs who think they can 'make it big on tv' and are guaranteed to get on my nerves, to mention nothing of my allergies. And compete in a lot of stupid baking challenges. And have my creations judged by those ridiculous showy food critics."

"You scared Scott? Think you won't measure up?" Jo ribbed.

"Measure up? It's all a set-up! A travesty! And more than likely rigged I'll wager. The people who create these shows probably have it all laid out from the start!"

"So? Who cares?" Jo shrugged. "As long as it works for you!"

"How would it work? I'd have to be gone for a month and a half of filming. You'd have to hire another chef to fill in while I'm gone and then…"

Jo shrugged. "I can do that. It's not a problem."

"Wait. Oh no. Is that what this is about, Jo?" Scott became genuinely hurt and upset. "Is this your way of getting rid of me? Because I'd rather you had the balls to look me in the face Jo, and fire me straight up!"

"Scott, honey," Jo grabbed his arm and looked him into his eyes. He was definitely taking this the wrong way. "Of _course_ I don't want to fire you. You're the… the _soul_ of Rize bakery! Rize could never do without you – well, not for longer than a month and a half. But… look I really think this is a great opportunity for you - to expand your horizons, explore new possibilities! And maybe take your mind off… some things…" Jo faltered.

"…off you," Scott finished. Now he understood what Jo was getting at. "Take my mind off you."

"Exactly," Jo agreed pulling away from him awkwardly.

Scott turned away, back to his work bench and Jo couldn't see if he was still offended or not. "Alright." Scott said with a shrug.

"Alright as in… you understand, or as in you'll actually go to the audition?" Jo asked, uncertainly.

"Both. If it's what you want." Scott replied, fussing over his icing mixture.

"Really?" Jo asked. "Are you sure? I mean _I_ think you should. I honestly think it's a great opportunity. But of course it's up to you. I'm not forcing you to do anything you don't want to do."

Scott turned to her defiantly. "I'll go. And not only that. I'll walk in there and I'll nail that audition, give them exactly what they want, and then I'll ace the goddam show and out-bake each and every other insipid try-hard contestant. I'll do whatever it takes, Jo, whatever I have to do to win that goddam trophy!"

"Er, I don't think there's an actual trophy," Jo didn't quite know what to make of Scott's sudden passionate change of heart, "Although I read there might be a book deal or…"

"But I want you to know _this_ ," Scott continued. "I'm not doing any of it for the publicity, or the prize money, or the exposure. I'm doing it for _you_ , Josephine," Scott swore. "Because _you_ want me to," he grabbed her shoulders ardently. "You needn't force me to do anything, ever. I'm more than willing, Jo. Anything you want. Anything at all. So if this is what you want, Jo, it's yours. The glory, the riches, and all that your heart desires. I'll give you all of that."

Scott's oven timer beeped, interrupting the momentary silence.

"Jesus, for Christ's sake Scott," Jo brought him back to earth. "You think you're my goddam knight in shining fucking armour?" she looked him up and down, "or apron?" Jo snorted wryly. "I don't want you to get all macho over cupcakes and meringues for me." She pulled away again, brushing at the fragrant vanilla icing sugar prints Scott had left on her arms. "Forget about it, okay. It was a dumb idea. It's just a third-rate reality show, right? A glorified baking contest put on for cheap entertainment. Not worth you busting your balls over like it's some kind of life or death tournament!" She looked at her cell phone. "Jesus, only five minutes 'til opening. Boy, time really flies when you're…" She looked up at Scott, "professing your undying devotion to me… again. Please, just stop with the crazy-ass chivalry Scott and get back to work. _That's_ what I want from you." Jo stormed out of the kitchen. Once out of his sight she leaned against the wall and couldn't resist licking her fingers. The fresh vanilla tasted so good. She hated to admit, even to herself that Scott was getting to her. She didn't think she could resist him for much longer. Which was why she had thought it might be good to have him gone for a while. So she could clear her head of all this romantic nonsense and get back to business as usual. That's what she wanted, she reminded herself for the hundredth time. That's all she wanted.


End file.
